


The Bird of Death

by boredbadlands



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Original Character Death(s), Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 22:29:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5683204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boredbadlands/pseuds/boredbadlands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 6 months since Steve and Sam retrieved Bucky. It has been 4 months since Steve and Bucky started dating. It has been 10 months since the last move of HYDRA.</p><p>But when a new opponent for the mighty Avengers appears, seemingly out of nowhere, not only Steve and Bucky's relationship will be tested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shots From Nowhere

**Author's Note:**

> hello.
> 
> so this is my first fanfic ever (posted at least), please be nice to me.
> 
>  
> 
> there will be some original characters, but they won't be introduced until later on. but, until then, enjoy my shitty interpretations of characters that already exist.
> 
>  
> 
> if you'd like to see any of the (non)essential extras when it comes to this fic you can go here: http://boredbadlands.tumblr.com/tagged/bird-of-death/
> 
>  
> 
> that's my blog by the way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers are given a minor mission to take down a small group of rebels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (disclaimer: i do not own anything from the movies/comic books)

It was the age of screaming, and all Steve desired was for the century to change. 

Gunshots and explosions sounded around him, making his ears ring. His eyes welled with unshed tears, blurring his vision of the battlefield. He struck his fist forward into the soldier standing in his way. His hands kept flying, handing out punches to everyone within reach. His sight stretched over the top of their heads, seeking out a source of familiarity. What he saw scared him beyond belief. Steve let out a gasp as Bucky’s eyes met his. Reflected in them, he saw his own face. It was painted with fear and surprise, blue irises shimmering in the light of fires spreading towards the both of them. There was an earth-shattering bang and Bucky eyes went dull. Blood blossomed across his chest and Steve let out a strangled scream. He couldn’t reach him, being pushed back by other soldier’s, faces unclear and mashed into one. He watched on in horror as Bucky hit the ground hard, dark hair plastered across his forehead.

The scene shifted.

The ground was a white river, broken by sharp, grey rocks. The air was silent, but for the whipping wind and squeals of train wheels against tracks. Steve and Bucky stood next to each other, each grasping each other’s hand. Bucky held his gun in his other, resting the weapon on his collarbone. Steve had his shield strapped to his arm, out in front of the two. Bucky whispered three words, and Steve could never remember what they were, but they filled him with both joy and dysphoria. The pair locked eyes, revelling in the fact that they were safe with each other. Though, seemingly, not for long. A blast of red and orange shot through the carriage, hitting Bucky square in the chest. He flew backwards, slipping from Steve’s hold. Steve darted to grab him again, but it was too late. He watched as Bucky fell back into the snow, eyes still locked on his in an intense gaze. 

Steve awoke with a gasp, pushing himself into a sitting position and turning on his bedside lamp. If there was one thing that frightened him most about his nightmares, it was that, in every single one of them, he was always looking Bucky straight in the eyes when he died.

A shuffle and a yawn came from beside him as Bucky turned over in the bed. He sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Steve always thought that was adorable, especially back in the 40’s when they’d both wake up from a night of Bucky keeping Steve warm. All his ailments had meant he needed to be kept a constant temperature during winters in Brooklyn, and his family’s apartment didn’t exactly have the same high-tech heating systems that his new place did. Granted, his new apartment was nothing like Tony’s – now called The Avenger’s Tower – but it had an old-timey appel to it that reminded him of home. 

“What was it this time?” a hoarse voice asked, as Bucky threw an arm – the flesh one – around Steve’s broad shoulders. 

“The same. You died. I stared. Very uneventful,” Steve replied, relaxing into Bucky’s, slightly awkward, embrace. 

“I forgot how sarcastic you were,” Bucky smiled, brushing his long hair out of his eyes. Steve cringed at his wording.

Bucky had always had a dark humour about him. Steve knew that. But, sometimes he wished that he would use different words. It had only been a couple of months since he had found Bucky in that abandoned HYDRA base. Both of them still needed time to heal, each other and themselves. 

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Steve stiffened under Bucky’s arm, shoulders hunched over in his white sleep shirt. Bucky cleared his throat. 

“Umm,” he croaked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Well,” he looked him in the eyes and grabbed his jaw when he tried to move away, “what do you want to do, because I’m guessing you don’t want to go back to sleep?”

Bucky knew well enough about nightmares. He knew about the fear you felt during them, and the fear you felt afterwards. He was well aware that going back to sleep was like throwing yourself into an abyss. One morning, he had woken up in the kitchen, metal hand poised over the knives. That day, he had demanded Steve hide them somewhere he couldn’t get to in his sleep. 

Steve hadn’t yet found a way to relieve himself of nightmares. He had attended a number of Sam’s group sessions. They hadn’t helped. Not that it was Sam’s fault. Sam helped a lot of people everyday, and he was already one of Steve’s best friends. 

Steve cupped Bucky’s cheek, taking great pleasure in the fact that Bucky leant into him, eyes fluttering closed. He took in a deep breath. 

“Nothing,” he said, moving forward. “I want to do absolutely nothing.”

\----

Steve had always taken great pride in the fact that he was a punctual man. So, when he stumbled into the Avengers Tower that morning, hair untamed and clothes wrinkled – not to mention the smug Bucky striding on beside him – Tony took it upon himself to make a comment.

“You know, Rogers, it’s bad for the team if your late to a meeting,” he smirked, escorting both men to a seat. “But, I commend you on your endurance. Did that come from the serum, or were you born with it?”

Natasha and Clint, who sat at the end of the table together, snickered as Steve stuttered and stared incredulously at a chuckling Bucky. Even Bruce, who wasn’t widely known for his gossiping habits, was sniggering across from him. 

He choked out a thanks, slumping into his seat and pulling at his hair. Bucky collapsed next to him, slapping his hand away from the blonde spikes. He flattened it down into a more acceptable style and proceeded to cross his arms over his chest and tune into what Steve presumed was the next “assignment” for the team.

It was a small group of people, including two women, that were causing havoc this time. Striking fear into residents of Illinois. They had all been gifted with powers – if you could call toxic waste a gift - and were currently using said powers to rob banks all over the state, focusing mainly on Chicago. 

“This is Taniya Daniels,” Tony clicked a button, landing on a grainy in-action photo of a young woman with long white hair and dark skin. “She’s a hydrokinetic – is that correct word for it? – anyway, she controls water. And this is her sister, Kaden,” the screen changed to a mug shot of the woman. “She has mind manipulation. She does all the talking, and this guy does all the walking.”

Gasps erupted from all the men sitting at the table. Natasha’s face remained blank and emotionless as she stared at the security footage of, the fittingly named, Nathan Strong. The team watched as he tore the door off a safe with his bare hands. 

“So, he’s like Bruce, without all the green,” Bruce quirked a bushy eyebrow at Tony, “and that’s obviously much less cool.”

The screen flickered for a moment, before moving on to a picture of a small, gangly man. 

“Now, now, looks can be deceiving. Like we all thought Steve was a nice gentleman from the 40’s, but we were wrong,” Steve coughed.

“Stark, move on,” Bucky warned.

“Right, anyway,” he turned back to the screen. “This is Wesley Trentham. He is, believe it or not, the leader of this group. His ability is that of health negation. That basically means that, if he touches your skin with his skin, you die.”

“Great,” Bucky said, sarcasm practically dripping from his words.

“Yes, so don’t let him touch your skin,” Tony turned off the screen. “Now, let’s go suit up. Rogers, Barnes, try not to take too long this time.”

Bucky glared at him as he left, arms folded over his chest. As soon as the door closed with a click, he leaned to the side and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Steve’s lips. The edges of his mouth quirked up and he turned his head to look his boyfriend in the eyes. Identical grins were spread across their faces. Steve jolted forward, capturing Bucky’s lips with his own. Their teeth clacked together, and Bucky’s stubble rubbed against his face. Their kisses were always a little awkward, but in the best possible way. Steve’s mother had religiously stated that if a man wasn’t nervous around you, he didn’t like you enough. Steve tugged on the ends of Bucky’s hair.

“You need a haircut,” he murmured against his lips. 

“Probably. But, then again, what would you hold onto?”

Steve growled at that, pushing Bucky’s head further into him, as if trying his hardest to mesh them together. Bucky groaned, attempting to push Steve’s leather jacket – which Bucky not-so-secretly found really hot – off his shoulders. It fell to the floor beside their chairs, and it was then that a static noise burst through the room and Tony’s smug grin showed up on the screen of the TV.

“Guys, I said keep it quick,” he scolded falsely. When neither of the men moved from their current position, his face changed. “Get down here now!”

Bucky and Steve looked at each other and sighed. The blonde reached down and grabbed his jacket from the tiled floor, shrugging it back on. Bucky stood, holding the door open with his metal arm. As Steve slipped through the doorway, Bucky seized a handful of his shirt and pulled him into another, short kiss that left his head spinning and eyes hazy.

Bucky just chuckled huskily and ruffled his already ruined hair, leaving Steve behind in the middle of the corridor.

\----

“Okay, Rogers, Romanov,” Tony pointed the two out. “Have you got all your protection on?”

Both Avengers held up their leather-gloved hands.

“There isn’t anything we can do about your face without giving you a motorcycle helmet, and Capsicle doesn’t wear one of those.”

Steve just ignored the vaguely disapproving look Bucky was shooting him. He didn’t even mention the fact that they both participated in more dangerous activities daily. 

“Alright, Stark. Come on, Blondie, let’s get this started,” Natasha moved swiftly and silently over to the opening in the back of the jet. It had been hard for her to let someone else drive, but she conceded once Clint said he’d be the pilot.

Steve started to follow after her, only to be pulled backwards by Bucky’s metal hand. Bucky twirled him around, briefly reminding Steve of a time back in the 40’s when Bucky had taught him how to dance. Shaking his head, he cleared the memory from his mind, refocusing on the Bucky in front of him. 

“Be safe, okay? Don’t let that health freak touch you, or I’ll kill you,” he muttered so only Steve could hear him. 

“Bucky, you’ll be in the room as well, just not right next to me,” Steve replied, winding a lock of Bucky’s hair around his finger. “And besides, wouldn’t killing me kind of defeat the purpose?”

“Just,” Bucky sighed, laying a palm on Steve’s jaw, “promise me you’ll try your best not to die.”

Steve bit back the witty retort on his tongue, instead kissing Bucky on the cheek and tucking his hair behind his ear.

“You missed,” Bucky smirked weakly. Without elaborating, he captured Steve’s lips with his own, as soon as Steve recovered and began to kiss back, he broke their contact and turned, walking away and over to where Clint was flying the jet.

Steve was dragged away by Natasha, too dazed to move on his own. She let out a low chuckle at his face before snapping her fingers in front of his face. 

“Come on lover boy, get your head in the game.”  
He blinked a couple times before lightly slapping Natasha’s hands away from his face. He glared at her and pulled his shield on over his back. She smirked as he walked backwards off the plane, but unlike a few years before, this time they were actually on the ground. She rolled her eyes fondly as he shrugged at her in a way that clearly meant “I don’t care”.

The two of them quickly and stealthily jogged up to the bank, which was currently surrounded by police cars – along with the random citizens looking on. Steve repressed the anger he felt at people being curious. The police turned and, upon seeing the both of them, relaxed slightly. Steve was known to be the negotiator, so Natasha began walking around the building to find an entrance while he asked the police some questions.

“How long has it been?” he motioned at the front of the bank, where he could clearly see the frightening four patrolling around the room.

“Pardon?” the officer yelled, Steve flinched. The officer reached up and pulled earplugs out of his ears. “Sorry Captain, but our superiors are making us wear these so that we can’t be controlled. It’s a bit inconvenient, but you know it’s for safety.”

“No, no,” Steve waved a hand at him. “That’s a good idea. I just asked, how long has it been since the hostage situation began?”

“About an hour,” the officer replied. “They started their heist at 12, and the police got here at 12:15. Only reason we knew was because one of the hostages was able to call us. Anthony Reynolds, he said his name was.”

“Was?” Steve was sick of good people dying.

“Yeah, that Trentham kid drained him while he was still on the phone.”

Steve ignored the churning feeling in his stomach, and tried to pay attention to Natasha over the earpiece.

“-Cap, you there? I repeat, Cap, you there?” 

“Yes, Natasha. Have you found an entrance?” he pressed a finger to his ear so he could hear better.

“I may have,” she sounded uncertain.

“May?” he repeated.

“Well, let’s just say, it’s gonna be a bit of a stretch.”

Steve sighed, “I’ll be right there.”

He bid a goodbye to the officer, who promptly plugged his earbuds back in. Steve ran as quietly as he could around the building until he found Natasha, who was leaning casually against the wall and inspecting her gloved hands. While Steve had only been given standard leather gloves to cover her skin, she had worn shock gloves. He had accidentally touched those once, and he winced around the toaster for a week. She let a smile grace her features when she saw him, but swiftly wiped it away as he reached her.

“So Nat, where is this entrance?”

Without looking away from his face, she pointed upwards and it took all Steve had not to groan on the spot. There, 6 feet above both their heads, was a window with an extremely small ledge below it. He stared at it for a few moments longer before sighing heavily and bending down. He held out his hands and cupped them, nodding at Natasha to step up on them. She grinned cheekily and locked her foot into place. He lowered his hands, and then threw them upwards, also throwing her into the air. He watched as she twisted in mid-air and gripped onto the small brick ledge, pulling herself up and into the room. He waited a few seconds, looking for a sign to come up himself. Natasha came back into view, but she was holding up a finger, as if to say “wait a minute”. She disappeared again and returned a short time later carrying a ladder. Once she dropped it down to him and he had climbed it, she started making snarky comments.

“Really, they left a ladder right next to a window? It’s no wonder they got broken into.”

“Nat,” Steve warned. 

“Sorry Grandpa, just trying to lighten up.”

Steve shot her a look and she smiled sheepishly, “I’ll admit that was pretty bad, I should be punished.”

Steve rolled his eyes and walked fast to get away from her.

“In case you’ve forgotten, Natasha, this is meant to be the stealth part of this mission,” he whispered, ducking behind a pillar.

“I’m the trained assassin, Captain.”

Steve clapped a hand over her mouth as one of the women walked past. He thought it was Kaden. He watched on and Natasha removed his hand. They both stayed silent until the woman moved away from them. They looked over at the huddle of hostages in the corner of the room, being guarded by Taniya Daniels and Nathan Strong. The pair glanced at each other and made a silent agreement to stay quiet. Steve nodded at the red-haired woman and she cautiously stepped out from behind the pillar and snuck around the perimeter of the room. Steve went to follow, cursing his boots for being so heavy as they made a thumping sound against the polished marble floors. Four heads whipped towards him and he could almost hear Natasha roll her eyes.

So much for stealth.

Steve dodged a large safe thrown in his general direction, reaching and pulling his shield off his back. He threw it towards Nathan Strong, hitting him square in the chest and propelling him backwards into a wall. Natasha leapt out from seemingly nowhere, wrapping her legs around Kaden Daniels’ neck and placing two fingers at her temples. Electricity shot through her fingers and into the woman’s brain. Her body began to shake and collapse. Natasha climbed off the limp body, whirling around and catching the the fist of Taniya Daniels and twisting her wrist. Her hand tangled in Taniya’s light hair, tugging at the roots roughly. She let out a shrill screech, grappling along Natasha’s arm with her long nails. Natasha gritted her teeth as they dug into her leather suit. She pressed her hand on the woman’s throat, but before she could shock her, was hit in the face with a spurt of water. She coughed and spluttered, wiping it from her face.

“Agent Romanov,” a smoky voice came from the white-haired woman. Natasha raised an eyebrow and Taniya jerked forward.

\----

Steve flew backwards against the pillar, creating a sickening crack. He slumped on the floor for a moment, stumbling back up in the next and facing the man in front of him. His helmet had fallen off 2 minutes ago, and his shield was across the room. In that second, he wished it was like Thor’s hammer and would return to him when he extended his hand. He ignored the screeching of a woman on his left – he had learnt a long time ago that Natasha could handle herself and would refuse help from almost everyone. 

A growl came from the man in his line of sight and Steve snapped his attention back to him. Nathan Strong was, well, strong. He was not, however, smart. That was what Wesley Trentham was for. Steve hadn’t seen Wesley yet; no doubt he was hiding up on the top level like the coward he was. He ducked under Nathan’s arm and darted to his shield, picking it up and immediately launching it to his right. The shield struck Nathan in the arm, knocking him back only a few steps. The shield bounced off his body and flew back to Steve, who then pitched it towards his head. And, while it did hit him in the face, it still didn’t knock him out. Steve was getting annoyed, wondering why Nathan refused to be hurt. He wound up his arm, ready to throw his shield at Nathan again when a metal arm coiled around his neck. Steve watched Nathan’s face turn purple as Bucky’s arm flexed, he watched as Nathan’s eyes rolled back in his head. Bucky released his chokehold as Nathan slumped forward. Steve moved towards the fallen man, placing two fingers on his neck.

“I didn’t kill him,” Bucky said, though he sounded slightly unsure and a little bit frightened.

“No, you didn’t,” he confirmed, taking his fingers away from Nathan’s pulse point.

Steve straightened, and glanced around the large room. He saw Natasha kneeling over Taniya Daniels’ limp body. Steve asked her a question with his eyes and she shook her head, removing her now uncovered fingers from Taniya’s neck. He waved her over and she put her gloves back on while strutting over, quirking an eyebrow at Nathan’s body on the floor. 

“He dead?” she asked bluntly.

Steve shook his head, “No. Just unconscious.”

“Taniya’s out,” Natasha said, voice and eyes blank. “Got fried. Turns out, water and electricity don’t mix.”

Steve just nodded and spun to look at the hostages, of which there were around 30. All of them were staring at the trio in awe. He was sick of people being fascinated by death.

“Buck, Natasha, get these people out of here and to the officers outside. I’ll go hunt down Trentham,” Steve ordered.

“But Steve -”

“It’ll be okay Bucky,” Steve cut him off. “I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay.”

Without waiting for further disagreement, he strode off, dashing up the stairs. He could barely hear Natasha convince Bucky to help her calm the hostages. 

His steps were purposeful, and he made sure to be quiet this time around. His shield was held out in front of his body, regardless of the body coverage he had. He cocked his head when he heard a scuttling to his left. He followed the sound, sure to keep his shield in front of his chest. He heard the noise again. To him, it sounded like multiple rats, and he’d always hated rats. He found himself in a long corridor at the top of the building, the scurrying was louder here. The skylight in the ceiling sent coloured patterns onto the floor. Shuffling came from behind him and Steve whirled around, thrusting out his shield. The person flew backwards and hit the wall with a grunt.

“Wesley Trentham,” Steve stated, standing up straight and tall. He knew this man was a coward and now that he didn’t have the advantage, he’d be easy to take down.

“Steven Rogers,” he retorted weakly, wheezing in the dust floating around him. “They told us about you.”

Steve was taken-aback. They? As far as everyone knew, these guys were working independently. 

Wesley continued on, either uncaring or unknowing of Steve’s confusion, “They told us that we’d be like you. They gave us a serum too. Obviously not as good as yours,” he pointed at his body. “But we got abilities. They told us about him too.”

Steve had no doubt as to who they were talking about.

“Who told you these things? Who gave you the serum?” Steve asked in a stern voice.

“They said that he was one of their greatest accomplishments. So compliant,” Wesley seemed not to notice Steve’s questions.

Steve’s jaw tightened, teeth clenching together. He was tempted to lash out. He wanted to beat this man senseless, but Wesley wasn’t the one to turn Bucky the way he was. 

“Wesley, who told you these things?” he repeated.

“They did,” he suddenly looked panicked.

“Who are they?” Steve asked, he was getting frustrated with Wesley’s mumbling.

Wesley looked up, and for the first time, Steve saw how truly terrified he was. His eyes flicked upwards and widened in fear. Steve had barely noticed his distracted gaze when a bang erupted throughout the room and Wesley soared back into the wall. Steve walked closer, a sickening feeling settling in his stomach. Wesley had been shot, right between the eyes. The bullet had travelled straight through his skull and left behind a bloody face. The most chilling thing about it, however, was that Wesley’s eyes were still open. Dull blue eyes locked with his and Steve was having flashbacks to his dreams featuring dead Bucky. He didn’t deserve it, and Steve shouldn’t have done it, but he reached forward and slipped his eyes closed. 

“Cap? Cap?” Natasha’s voice came over his earpiece. “Come in Cap. Rogers, are you okay?”

Steve shook his head, clearing the morbid thoughts, “I hear you Romanov.”

“Steve, I swear to God, Barnes looks like a ghost right now,” she replied.

“Steven Grant Rogers!” a deep voice interrupted their conversation.

“I’m okay Buck,” Steve said, spinning around the room and searching for source of the bullet. 

“Not for long,” Bucky said. “Get down here now.”

His tone was unyielding and Steve didn’t particularly desire to deal with an angry Bucky, but he didn't particularly want to tell the others what had happened. So, with a last look around the room, he trekked back down to the ground level.


	2. Brooklyn Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Bucky go to a coffee shop and get interrogated by a small child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha im back, it's been more than a month, i apologise.
> 
> anyway, there is some russian (badly translated lbr) and the english translations at the bottom.
> 
> and, i know this chapter is really short (yikes) but this fic WILL have a minimum of like 2k words so at least they won't be too short.

“What happened in there Steve?” Bucky asked, concern flooding through his voice.

“I told you,” he replied, avoiding his eyes. 

“Did you?” Natasha asked, pulling her gloves off with her teeth. “You’ve been acting strange since we got back from the bank.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, ignoring the looks they were giving him. 

Bucky put a hand on his shoulder, “Steve, you keep looking behind you and you’ve been jumpy all day. It’s like you think someone’s gonna pop up out of nowhere and kill you.”

“I’m not!” he finally looked at him Bucky

“Captain Rogers, your blood pressure is getting increasingly high. Perhaps you should go and calm down somewhere,” Jarvis’ voice echoed through the room.

“You know what, Jarvis? That’s a good idea,” and with that, Steve brushed Bucky’s hand off him and marched off.

Bucky and Natasha stared after him, both with confused frowns on their faces. Natasha placed her gloves on the table and pulled her hair back from her face. Bucky continued to watch the door, as if waiting for Steve to burst back in and tell them what was happening. 

“Ваш друг действует странный,” Natasha said, lips twisted downwards.

“я знаю,” he replied, not looking at her.

“хорошо, более странный чем обычно,” she smirked. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“спасибо,” he left the room, muttering to himself about the super soldier he was currently searching for. 

Bucky wandered around the building, glancing around at all of the foreign machinery in the tower. Learning about technology was hard for him. The toaster was still a little confusing. 

“Jarvis?” he asked curiously. Jarvis was another thing Bucky wasn’t used to. “Where is Steve at the moment?”

“Captain Rogers is currently in the training room, but I don’t suggest you go in there Mr. Barnes,” the AI answered. He kept repeating this as Bucky marched across the building.

Jarvis did not, however, stop him when he reached the door. Instead he unlocked the door and allowed Bucky into the training room. The first thing he noticed was the soft grunts and smacks coming from the boxing ring. He turned the corner and saw Steve standing in the centre of the circle. He was beating the punching bag so hard, Bucky felt as if it would soon come free. After one particularly savage hit, the bag did exactly that and went flying backwards against the wall, splitting open and spilling stuffing on the floor. Bucky watched Steve’s shoulders heave up and down, breaths coming out in loud and short puffs. He took cautious steps forward, consciously making noise so Steve knew he was there. He had been told on many occasions that his silent movements could be unsettling. 

“What do you want Bucky?” Steve asked, still staring at the floor.

“I want to know why you’re acting so strange,” Bucky had always been quite blunt and Steve knew that he wasn’t going to let this go. “I thought you were always against secrets?”

Steve sighed. He was still reeling from the events of the day, and his brain was working overtime to work out why he hadn’t seen whomever shot Wesley Trentham. 

“C’mon Stevie, talk to me,” Bucky rubbed a comforting hand down his back. “Please.”

Steve almost crumpled into his arms at that one word. It had been a long time since someone had actually said that to him. Most just ordered him around, or wanted to be ordered around by him.

“Bucky, he didn’t kill himself,” Steve turned, looking him right in the eyes.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows scrunched up. “What are you talking about Steve?”

“He didn’t kill himself,” at Bucky’s expression he continued. “I didn’t kill him either.”

“What are you saying? He can’t have just died.”

“Someone shot him Bucky. But I didn’t see them. I should have seen them,” Steve’s voice was shaking and Bucky’s heart broke with every stutter.

Steve had never told Bucky the full extent of his nightmares before. In all truth, seeing someone get shot in front of him had not only set off triggers of his dreams, but of the many men he saw die back when he was a soldier. Back when he was a voluntary soldier. He took in shuddering breaths as his shoulders shook.

“Steve, you need to calm down,” Bucky tried to tilt his head to look him in the eyes, but Steve’s face was buried into his neck. 

“His eyes were open Bucky.”

That was one of the few things Steve had told him about the nightmares. He had told him about how Bucky always died with his eyes open. Bucky’s face fell, chin resting on top of Steve’s head. Their arms were wound so tight around each other, anyone walking past would think they were about to shatter into pieces. Steve’s breaths were shallow and ragged, almost as if his asthma was resurfacing. 

“Steve,” Bucky’s voice was gentle and it coiled around Steve like a warm blanket. “Steve, you need to tell the others what happened.”

His mouth opened to protest, but Bucky pressed his lips to his and Steve couldn’t find it in himself to continue. When Bucky pulled away he suppressed a fond smile as Steve moved to follow him. One, two, three kisses later Steve finally let his eyes flutter open. 

“Fine, I’ll tell them,” he surrendered. “But, do we have to go tell them now?”

He tugged at the back of Bucky’s hair. Bucky lips twisted into a half-smirk.

“I’m not going to have sex with you in the middle of a sweaty boxing ring, if that’s what your thinking.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head, “I was thinking of going to get coffee at that place you like, but it’s nice to know where your mind lies.”

Bucky smiled at the retort. This was his Steve.

\--------

Bucky didn’t like Starbucks. The coffee’s names were too complex and there were always too many people in the room. The baristas almost always flirted with him, and constantly got his name wrong. Every time.

So, Steve knew never to take him there. Instead, they always went to a small café in Brooklyn. It had been there since they were children and had been handed down generations. The first time they entered, the lady behind the counter had jumped up and demanded she give them coffee on the house. But, of course, Steve had left forty dollars on the table for her to collect after they left. Their photos now hung on one of the walls, alongside some actors that Bucky didn’t recognize. 

“My boys! My boys!” Tia’s voice floated through the café, her figure clothed in a dirty apron as she approached them. “You two look hungry, come sit!”

She grabbed them by the wrists, not even flinching when her hand brushed Bucky’s metal limb. He had learned she was a very touchy person and the first time she saw it; she had told him that she had a prosthetic hip so she wasn’t allowed to judge him. Tia Rothman was small and her smiled brightened a million people’s days, and Bucky thought that was why he liked her so much. 

She sat the couple at a diner-style table near the window, “Need to have my prettiest customers where everyone can see them!”

One of the teenagers working behind the counter called out to her, dragging the woman’s attention to her nephew. 

“Auntie Tia, how much are the brownies again?” he asked, fingers poised on the cash register.

“Three-fifty-nine,” she called back, pausing to smile at a young boy who had walked up to their table. “Hello, what’s your name?”

“Leo,” he answered, voice tiny and shaking. He brushed his curly hair away from his forehead. “I was just wondering if I could have your autograph Mr. Captain America, Sir.”

Steve laughed quietly, bending down slightly to look him in the eyes. Bucky watched him as he took the pen from Leo’s hand, smiling down at him as he did it. He took the notepad from the little boy’s hand and signed the piece of paper, but didn’t stop there and Bucky could tell he was writing some sort of sentimental message. 

“Hey, you’re Bucky Barnes!” Leo suddenly caught notice of the other man at the table. “Can I have yours too?”

Bucky jerked backwards slightly, surprised at the idea of someone wanting him to sign anything. He wasn’t a hero; he was an ex-assassin who had tried to kill his best friend. That was nothing to model yourself after. 

He stuttered out an answer, taking the notepad when it was handed to him by excited hands. But that meant his hands had to come out of his pockets. Leo’s eyes widened in curiosity at the sight of Bucky’s metal arm. His hand shot out and grasped ahold of his wrist. It took all control Bucky had over himself not to rip his arm away, he knew he could seriously hurt this boy if he did so. This boy wasn’t a super soldier, he wasn’t Steve, he wouldn’t be able to take Bucky’s strength. He gently tugged his hand away from Leo, resting it back in the pocket of his jacket, instead focusing on making his writing eligible. 

“Wow, your arm looks really cool!” Leo said, unaffected by Bucky’s behavior. Bucky flinched and Steve placed a hand on top of his own. “My dad has a metal leg, his got taken by a shark when he went surfing once.”

Bucky’s frown lifted and he blinked down at the table, fingers still clutching the pen tightly. A timid tug on his shirt broke him out of his stare and he followed the hand up a strong arm, across broad shoulders and onto a sharp jawline. Steve smiled at him gently and he released the pen, handing it back to Leo, who was watching them in fascination. A spark was present in his eyes, and then he was talking again. Bucky found that he didn’t mind it so much.

“Are you two in love?” Steve sputtered around his coffee, that Tia had brought only a few seconds prior. 

Truthfully, neither of them had said those words to each other yet. It was a known fact that they loved each other, but they’d never said the actual words and Bucky knew it was because of him. Bucky was still fragile, in a mental sense, and had trouble controlling his reactions. He could count on one hand the times he had woken peacefully in the last year.

“Okay Leo, I think that’s enough. How about we find your papa?” Tia said, laying a weathered hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Enjoy your coffee boys.”

Steve had been wiping at the table with a napkin, rubbing his face with the sleeve of his jacket. When she departed, he raised a hand in thanks. Without speaking, he turned back to his coffee cup, eyes locked onto thin air. Steve did that a lot, Bucky had noticed. There were only certain situations in which he wouldn’t look someone in the eyes. One, he was trying to hide something. Two, he was thinking about something to draw. Or three, he was trying to distract himself from his surroundings. 

“Steve, you know that you need to tell the others what happened,” it wasn’t a question.

“I know,” he replied, running his hands through his hair and resting his head on his fist. “I know I do.”

“Are you going to?” Bucky asked, sipping on his coffee. 

Steve looked him in the eyes, and Bucky hoped that a yes. 

“Do you want me to buy you a brownie?” Bucky asked. Steve loved the brownies at this café, ever since the first owner had given him one for free during the cold 40’s winter. Bucky smiled at the chuckle coming from his chest.

“No, that’s okay,” Steve said, holding his hands around the hot mug.

“Steve,” Bucky sighed. Steve shook his head. He lowered his eyes to the table, zoning in on a small spot where the wood had been stained by coffee. He traced around it until his fingers were caught in a shaking hand. His eyes flickered upwards and he almost swooned at the look Steve was giving him. 

“Okay, Bucky,” Steve’s tone was that of acceptance. “Let’s go back.”

“Okay?”

Steve grinned like he knew a joke Bucky didn’t, “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Ваш друг действует странный – Your boyfriend is acting weird.  
> [2] я знаю – I know.  
> [3] хорошо, более странный чем обычно – Well, weirder than usual.  
> [4] спасибо – Thanks.

**Author's Note:**

> please leave a comment and/or a kudos as they are encouragement for me to continue :)


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